Chapter 19
A Deadly Game
Eight days past the summer solstice. The sixteenth year of Serenity VI's life was drawing to a close. How long? Selene mused, gazing upon her children as they roamed over the face of the moon, seeking out the Silver Palace and Princess Serenity's birthday celebration. How long have I dreaded this day? This day when Order's scales will tip and Chaos will gain the upper hand? How long have I been weighing my own sacrifices against what will be gained in fighting back?
She had known since before Serenity VI was conceived what it would have to come to. Father Destiny had his plans for fighting the eternal battle against the dark gods and their champion, and eldest and most favored among his children though Selene was, she had little power to dispute them. Thus, they had been set into motion, and now Selene watched her father's seeds bear fruit with a heavy heart.
"Selene…"
Selene turned at the sound of her sister's voice. Morganna stood before her, an ashen, wasted skeleton. So long now had she been confined to a bed, burning with a fever, racked with pain. Her brothers and sisters had always tried to ease her suffering, but they knew they acted in vain. Morganna was no longer a goddess. Only a mortal woman gifted with incredible power, and fated for death. And this fact had been pounded into the minds of the gods by her perpetual agony.
But now she stood, weakened but steady on her feet, face pale, eyes far too large, but sparking and alert.
"Selene," she repeated solemnly, curling and uncurling her white fingers by her sides, "it is time." …
… It is time.
The thought brought a smile to Metallia's lips. Today, the blood of the Sailor Soldiers and two Serenitys would flow down the steps of the Silver Palace. Today, Metallia would gorge herself their life force, and seat herself upon the throne that had so long been a thorn in the worldly flesh of the Dark Gods. Today would be the end of the Silver Millennium.
A shiver passed through the goddess' worldly form, her tongue moistening in anticipation of blood. Lust pulsed through her loins, so powerful that for a moment she considered pleasuring herself with her hands the way some mortal women did when they felt heat consuming them and they had no lover at hand. But no, Metallia would not demean herself so. Not at her moment of triumph. Blood on her tongue would be enough to satisfy her.
And speaking of which…
Metallia flexed her fingers, summoning a jeweled goblet, and turned towards her altar. Yet another dark goddess lay dead upon it, cut in two neat halves, her blood leaving patterns on the stone.
"Beryl."
The terran woman's copper head jerked upwards, and she smiled up at the dark one. "Mistress."
"You are ready, my pet."
The goblet dipped into the dead goddess, and her blood pooled within its polished depths, spilling over its smooth rim to further stain the predator's soft hand. Slowly, she extended the cup to her subordinate. Beryl stepped forward, accepting it, cradling it in her hands like some hairless infant animal. Some precious jewel. Fitting her lips over the rim, she sucked the blood into her mouth. Under Metallia's dancing eyes, Beryl slowly began to tip the goblet, and then her head, her throat working as she swallowed the divine blood.
"How do you feel?" Metallia asked when the last drop had vanished down the Terran noblewoman's throat.
A sneer twisted Beryl's lips. The gaze that lifted to lock with Metallia's burned with a feverish light, and from her blood-coated throat was torn a harsh, bitter laugh.
"I feel…powerful."
And Metallia smiled…
…Far away, safely hidden from the dark goddess, Germatoid was making preparations. Tonight, the Promise Child would be his. Whatever his dear aunt said, he was not prepared to lose the brat to Chaos and the dark gods. There was simply too much to be had with her.
It truly is the purpose of the diamohn her power is meant to serve, Germatoid thought to himself. The Fates would not waste so much power on such a petty cause as revenge. Not when it could be put to use on better things.
This did not mean, of course, that he could not use Metallia's interest in Lady Saturn's bastard to his advantage. Quite the opposite. He had no plan of his own for obtaining the child from the Crystal Tower, where she lived under Selene's protection. Her readily admitted that he did not have power enough to take on the Queen of the Gods directly. Metallia, though ultimately less powerful than Selene, was ruthless enough to take her on, and with a few underhanded tricks, she could at least hold the white moon goddess at bay. Germatoid intended to give his aunt room to work her magic, at least at the start. Once the Promise Child had been lured into the open, once her power was ready to be awakened, then he would make his move.
Yes, Germatoid thought with a smile. Everything was going to be just fine…
…Free of her worldly form now, Metallia hovered over the moon's silvery face, watching her subordinate, standing below a sword in her right hand, gazing across Mare Serenitatis at the Silver Palace. Serenity's stronghold, standing since the days when Selene walked among mortals, glittered shamelessly in the sunlight, foolishly announcing to the cosmos the power of the goddess-born beauty dwelling within. Folk of noble houses from all over the Kingdom were flocking to this shimmering testimony of the Light Sister's arrogance to gaze upon the silver Queen and her golden Princess. Doubtless the crowds consisted of a hundred young men who hoped to win favor with the daughter, for it was well known that the girl was as pure a beauty as her mother.
Have your fun, Serenitys, Metallia thought. Enjoy your last happinesses before you are flung to the realms of Urien.
Below her, Beryl turned towards her armies. The whole of Terra's able-bodied population stood behind her, including Prince Endymion's four bodyguards. All had been turned by Metallia's power into loyal servants of the dark gods.
Only Endymion himself was missing. He had not yet been turned. But this fact concerned neither Beryl nor her mistress. He would be theirs in good time. Neither doubted this in the least.
"We will attack when the sun stands at the palace's back!" Beryl announced, aiming the point of her sword at the silver edifice. Her voice rang clear across the lonesome moonscape. A chill wind crept up her back and flung her wild red curls on high, putting her soldiers in mind of deadly flames swimming out to consume all who would oppose them. The effect was heightened by the fire and lightning that had accumulated in her eyes over time as she consumed higher and higher quantities of divine blood, enough to make a collective shiver pass over the soldiers.
"You all know your assignments," the Terran went on, oblivious or unheeding of any discomfort she caused her subjects. "Prince Endymion and his slut are mine. Serenity V and Hotaru of Saturn belong to our Great Empress. The Sailor Guardians," she said, smiling ruthlessly at Endymion's bodyguards, "are the property of my generals. Let it ever be told they were slain in crimes of passion."
The four generals seemed to find this very funny, bursting into peals of derisive laughter.
"The rest of the population," Beryl finished, holding out her hands in a gesture of disinterest, "is yours to do with as you will. Have fun."
It is time…